you bend my ideas of temperance and grace
even as i question my selfishness in wanting
to steal your name.
though your eyes hold such texture
they cannot undo me. i was whole
before you, but after, not nearly.
you tell me the time with lips
pressed to my palm
and i remember
it was a quiet morning we met.
such a lovely surrender,
that first kiss.
i do not love you
to the stars
for they will eventually burn out.